They trveled along Uch’l’thein’s trail north, since it coincided with their path for now. As the sun fell beneath the horizon and night began to fall, Trat’catha broke off the path and led them eastward toward the cache.
Tu’lar watched Tin’lo with a caring gaze as they moved on the darkened path: it seemed Tin’lo was fine and Tu’lar knew he wouldn’t put on a tough front; they had known too many people who couldn’t keep up because they’d been too stubborn or prideful to admit when they’d been pushed past their limits.
Tu’lar rummaged through a pouch at his side and pulled out a bit of jerky and a smaller pouch that he pinched orange cardin powder from to sprinkle over the meat. He reached out to hand Tin’lo the jerky, but took it back when he shook his head.
More for me.
He enjoyed the spicy bite the cardin powder gave the jerky and it was one of the reasons he carried so much on his person, or had carried would be more accurate. As he snacked, he noted the trees they passed were in their dormant stage and wouldn’t be flowering anytime soon, which was a tragedy since their fruits were both nutritious and quite the stimulant. They walked past a small patch of purple moss and Tu’lar dipped out of sight for just a moment before returning to the back of the group, the purple moss almost completely gone and a bag suddenly much more full than it had been.
That’s gonna make a nice flask later.
Tu’lar stretched as they walked and enjoyed the fresh night air, periodically glancing around at the herbs and mushrooms as they passed, snatching them up and putting them in a special bag if they were poisonous or in a regular one if they weren’t. If you were knowledgeable and observant any forest had a trove of treasures always ripe for picking. Whenever the opportunity arose he also scouted their trail behind to ensure they wouldn’t be snuck up on.
The night slipped away pleasantly and a calm red dawn took its place in the sky. The party had been on the move for the past day and most of the night, stopping only for small breaks and Tu’lar was beginning to think they were going to try to push further.
Just as well, any path will do. Just keep moving forward.
With the morning light, it became much easier to pick out potential herbs and food items as they traveled and Tu’lar veered off the path to pick a few fallen seedlings that were acceptable for food. As he did, he glanced behind them and noticed a set of figures moving through the trees in the far distance - too far away to be able to pick out the elves individually, but unmistakably following their path.
Maybe we should have fueled the cloaks anyways.
“It’s time we get some grub! And settle our backs,” Tu’lar called out to the front of the line as he swatted his stomach. The expression on his face was serious, rather than the jovial look he usually carried. Tin’lo, beside him, took note immediately and they sped up to close ranks with the rest of the group.
“We’re nearly there; a little further and we can rest,” Trat’catha called back, eager to push on; he hadn’t looked back to see Tu’lar’s expression, but Thu’lain, Aner’dea, and Raj’ken had and immediately slowed down to let them catch up.
“Hah! Even better, Trat’catha, that you come here, then.” Tu’lar immediately stopped where he was and tossed off his pack, letting it thump against the ground heavily. Realization dawned on Trat’catha, but he prevented any expression from changing on his face or entering his voice. Instead, he turned and started walking back, making to take his own pack off and allowing him to more easily reach his own javelins.
“Of course, it’s not going anywhere. How many want breakfast?” Trat’catha smoothly set down his pack and grabbed a javelin from it, using Tu’lar as a shield for vision.
“At least six, potentially more. They’re a ways back, but I don’t know how well they may be able to hear,” Tu’lar whispered almost inaudibly now that everyone was close enough to hear.
“Centaur?” Anar’dea asked, her hand started to subconsciously move to the bow strapped to her back, but she caught herself and kept herself from grabbing the weapon for now.
“No, humanoid, but I don’t recognize them. They’ve got fur. Could be the gaur Trat’catha mentioned.” Tu’lar grabbed a piece of jerky, taking a bite and handing another piece to Tin’lo, who also took the opportunity to eat.
“Should we bleed ourselves to use the cloaks? Just let them pass us by?” Raj’ken asked, looking more at Trat’catha for answers than anything.
“No. If they are gaur, then bleeding ourselves would defeat the purpose of the cloaks; the scent would be too strong. They may just be checking on the newest group entering their territory. Gaur are generally tolerant of elves as long as they don’t stay long.”
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“They’ll catch up to us eventually. May as well talk to them now,” Trat’catha reassured them.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The centaur weren’t exactly the most talkative,” Anar’dea asked nervously.
“Yes; the centaur have been dangerous for a long time, while the gaur have been more accepting - so long as you don’t antagonize them.” Trat’catha looked at Thu’lain, “But I’d appreciate if you hid close by to help in a pinch, since you can hide without a cloak. Just in case.”
“Sure.”
Thu’lain stood and slinked away into the underbrush. Tu’lar watched and tried to follow where Thu’lain had disappeared to, but failed to find him even in the sparse cover that he had to work with.
Well, isn’t that a fright.
Tu’lar and Tin’lo crouched nearby and watched Trat’catha walk into a more open area along the path they’d taken and Anar’dea and Raj’ken took up the other flank. Tu’lar looked around before he realized the guliks had vanished completely sometime during the excitement.
Starting to think Thu may actually be part gulik.
Tu’lar couldn’t help but smile at the thought even as he saw the figures close in. From the distance, he couldn’t make out fine details, but there were eight of them in total and they made no attempts to hide their presence as they advanced. They were tall. though, standing between seven and nine feet tall when walking upright on two legs as they were, though it seemed they’d be just as comfortable on four. They were heavily furred, with what seemed to be a mane that spread from the back of their necks down a sloping line to their sternums, several of them had leather armor that did not block their manes.
But the one at the front was who drew his attention the most: she looked forward with emerald eyes and it was as if someone took every predatory feature of the wolflike gaur and ramped them up another level, while still maintaining a litheness of form - much like an elf. She strode forward toward Trat’catha.
“Greetings, elf kin. I am Il’tan, daughter of El’tan,” she projected her voice clearly and bowed as an elf of the court might do.
“I greet you, Il’tan. I am Trat’catha, the Winter Smith,” Trat’catha replied smoothly with a formal tone that he’d only had when he’d introduced himself to them what felt like weeks ago now. He bowed to her in return without skipping a beat. She smiled and settled into a more casual stance, leaning her weight comfortably to one side.
“Please be at ease; we don’t intend any violence on you or your party. We happened upon your trail and sought to ask directions.” Il’tan gestured behind her at her party, and they approached calmly and carefully. Tu’lar couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he pulled out some more jerky and handed it to Tin’lo. They both ate in silence while they watched the conversation unfold.
“I’ll help if I can. But if I may ask, you said ‘elf kin,’ does that mean you are a Lumin?” Trat’catha inquired.
“It does,” she smiled, “My mother was leading us to Anosora, but we were separated after an apex attack. She led it away, but we lost her scent once we found that trail of destruction to the west.” She averted her eyes, brushing them slightly as if there was something to be rubbed away.
“I see, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m afraid reaching Anosora will take a bit more guidance than pointing out a direction.” Trat’catha crossed his arms as he considered the options he had.
“Can we come with you, then?” She brightened up and her tail swished lightly behind her.
Tu’lar had to resist the urge to laugh; he already liked her because she couldn’t possibly hide it when she was excited about something. He elbowed Tin’lo gently and tilted his head towards Trat’catha.
“Come on, Tin, no reason to hide now.” Tu’lar spoke softly and stepped through the underbrush toward the meeting with Tin’lo in tow.
“I have no problems with them tagging along.” Tu’lar gave a thumbs up as Anar’dea and Raj’ken revealed themselves from their own cover, giving each other a brief glance before Raj’ken piped up,“We’re good with it.”
Trat’catha nodded and started looking around for something, which made Il’tan and the other gaur suddenly tense, as if they thought he’d detected a danger.
Finally, he let out a sigh and asked, “Thu’lain, what do you think?” He spoke out to the air, unable to find where Thu’lain hid.
“Fine.”
The sound came from only a few feet away from Il’tan and she jumped in surprise as Thu’lain walked away from a nearby tree and bush that had obscured his position. He casually walked past Trat’catha and sat down next to the packs.
“Well, you can join us, but know that we’ve been running into apex, centaur, Ar’ghul, and even an eclipse, so it’s not going to be safe by any measure. We’re also taking a detour nearby first.”
“My companions are Raj’ken, Anar’dea, Tu’lar, Tin’lo, and that one is Thu’lain.” Trat’catha gestured at each person as he named them.
“That’s great!” Il’tan cried out, and excitedly beckoned to her party.
“This is my dad, Hret, my uncle Hal, his wife Hesa, their friend Grond, and my cousins Ire and Itren.” She also pointed them out as her tail swished uncontrollably.
Satisfied that no one was in any imminent danger, the two groups sat together, though still divided by their original parties. Raj’ken and Anar’dea peppered Il’tan with questions and they happily conversed while Trat’catha comfortably spoke to Hret, Hal, and Hesa.
Thu’lain and Grond sat in their respective areas quietly eating.
About an hour later, Trat’catha stood and roused the group as a whole to set off on the last leg of the journey to the cache. Within an hour, they could see a thin pylon rising above the scattered treeline. Trat’catha sped his step and almost vibrated with energy.
“We’re here!” He cried out in joy, though everyone else struggled to find anything other than a single thin rod sticking high out of the ground.
“Uh. Trat. Where’s the cache?” Raj’ken searched for anything like a structure, or at least something that looked a bit more impressive than a pole sticking out of the ground. Her gaze passed beyond the pylon and toward a shimmering lake and her eyes glistened in excitement, “The lake! It’s right there!”
“Hold on, let’s do this right.We will rest at the lake soon!” Trat’catha chided, though he still wore a smile on his face as he stepped up to the pylon. It took him a few minutes, but he cleared the moss from it and revealed ten rings that made up the lower area of the pylon. He began turning them quickly, matching up symbols in a specific, seemingly jumbled, order.
I guess that helps to keep someone from randomly guessing at it.
Tu’lar crept a bit closer to peek at Trat’catha’s task as his interest rose and he could hear him mumbling to himself.
“Just...a bit...more...” Trat’catha nimbly moved the rings until a loud clack resounded through the air and Trat’catha took a few hurried steps backward.
What now?
Everything remained calm for just a moment, but then the pylon creaked and dropped like the floor had been ripped away. The pylon stopped suddenly with a loud snap as it reached ground level and Tu’lar felt the ground beneath him shift suddenly, nearly taking him off his feet.
When all had settled once more, there was a section of the ground at least ten feet across and fifteen feet in length that had shifted down into the earth and parted, leaving a gap between two halves.
Quite like a door in the ground.
“Now I’ll show you what I put in this cache.”